Not that I could particularly care less what Stevie Gerrard may or may not have done to some DJ who refused to play a Phil Collins record for him, but it’s nice to see Southport in the news, there.
I’ve never been to The Lounge Inn (bit after my time, I think), so I’m obviously disappointed that premiership footballers aren’t beating people up in the Kingsway or Manhattans (not that I’d know what either of those are calling themselves these days, mind).
I’m not sure about this, though, The Guardian: “The timing of the incident could not come at a worse time for Liverpool FC. The club has a real chance of winning the Premier League – it hasn’t claimed the title in 19 years.”
Huh? (Possibly) winning the league for the first time in two decades is a bad thing? Dark days for the club indeed.
Oh, and I do recommend you watch that little bit of video on the BBC story, if only for the comedy value of the photo they show: what the indie and other papers describe as Gerrard “[posing] for pictures with a young fan about an hour before the fracas” turns out to be him sitting at a table at the back of the shot facing the other way while a gurning idiot sneaks a furtive cameraphone picture…
To bang my little drum where I can (and I apologies for doing so) what the fuck does a footballer have to do to get sacked? If Ross and Brand had been Premier League footballers they could have driven round to Andrew Sach’s house during a family get-together, rammed down the door and taken it in turns buggering the old man with a 10 inch strap-on while a group of Sachs’s gaping progeny looked on and been back at work within the hour, cheered on a crowd of overweight hairless halfwits, tabloids and sponsors.
It’s a beautiful image, Rob…